Dynasty
by Astaldowen
Summary: Ever since the victories on Midgard and Svaltalfheim, Asgard has not been the same. Unrest plagues every resident, especially the battered family that a certain trickster left behind. But when the king takes a turn for the worst and an uncharacteristically greedy eye turns back towards Earth , suspicions arise unchecked. And rightfully so. For Odin is not who he says he is...
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This story is, on the one side, most definitely Loki/Sigyn, but I'll be taking a bit of a different angle on Sigyn. She WILL (hopefully) be in character from what I've been able to gather from the canon, but, as she doesn't show up all that often, I'll be taking a bit of a creative license with the aspects of her character that we don't really see. I'll be doing the same thing with their (possibly) canon sons: Narvi and Vali (I know that Narvi and Vali are in mythological canon, but I'm not sure about the comics. I'm adding them in anyway). **

** Also: this story is most definitely AU, leaning more towards the movies (because I've never read the comics, only the Internet...heh heh heh...). It's set directly after Thor: The Dark World.**_**  
**_

**Sorry about the long intro. Now, on with the show! **

**One**

_ Not again. _

The words whip through her mind as cold winds in an ice storm. She doesn't have the capacity to process the news; all she knows is that she, and more importantly the two young boys that she just tucked into bed, can't take another dose of the same grief they've just hardly overcome. They can't go through this again...

_ Not again..._

Wounds that she thought had scarred over are callously ripped open once more. This time, however, her breath doesn't leave her, and she manages to somewhat keep her composure as she delicately sits on the edge of a lavishly embroidered chair. Unable to find words, she merely stares at the floor, blinking back frozen, unshed tears.

The deliverer of the unexpected news, for his part, watches as his friend and sister by law slowly falls apart behind closed doors. He takes a small step forward. He can only think of one thing to say, though he knows it to be completely futile. The silence, however, is unbearable, so he says it anyway.

"Are you alright, Sigyn?"

She doesn't budge. She doesn't even look at him. Completely entranced by shock, she seems to be nothing but another ornate statue.

He steps forward again, stoops to her level, and takes her icy hands in his. Sighing, he casts his own eyes to the floor for a split second, then slowly speaks.

"I know that this is difficult for you to bear. It is for me, too. Loki was my brother, and, though he made some...mistakes, I loved him nonetheless. And I know that you did, too."

_ Did I? Did I really? _

Ever since his reappearance after his first alleged death, and especially upon receiving word of his recent atrocities, she's struggled with that elusive four letter word as it corresponds to that even trickier four letter name. But now, as it flips over itself, her heart whispers a poignant answer to the question.

_ Of course you did. _

"You were right about him, you know."

Those words are enough to break grief's spell. Slowly her eyes travel to his face, which wears a small smile.

"What?" she whispers.

"He sacrificed himself for me. He told me that personally just before he died. You were right about him."

She slowly nods and heaves a shaky sigh.

"What am I to tell the boys...?" Her voice is barely audible, but the words are wailing.

Silence takes over. Finally he breaks it.

"That their father died honorably."

"And...to find it in their hearts...perhaps...to forgive him his misdeeds?"

She speaks of herself just as much as she speaks of her sons.

Thor sighs. "Maybe one day."

"One day..."

Nodding, he stands and paces to the other side of the room. Quietly he opens a door to check in on his nephews, Narvi and Vali, who still sleep peacefully.

"They look just like him, do they not?"

Thor grins. "That they do."

Soundlessly he shuts the door just as Narvi stirs in his sleep.

"And if they are as strong as their mother, then we needn't worry about them."

A sliver of a smile slips across Sigyn's face, but her eyes remain glued to the floor.

"Thank you for telling me. It was much easier hearing it from you this time than from your father last time." She pauses and draws in a quivering breath. "Loki truly died honorably?"

"I wouldn't have said so if it were not the truth." His words are laced with compassion.

"Then my hope for him was not in vain."

Thor crosses the room and lays a quiet hand on Sigyn's shoulder.

"I admire your fidelity, Lady Sigyn. Now, if you'll excuse me, I must take my leave."

Sadly Sigyn smiles. "Go," she says. "You must be weary."

He only nods. "Goodnight."

He turns to leave.

"Thor," she says.

He stops.

"Thank you."

He smiles. "Of course." He takes her hand and quickly kisses it. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

As soon as he is out of sight, she turns and slips into her own chambers. Once the door is shut, she collapses onto the bed, buries her face into the pillows, and bursts into sobs.

Of all the dastardly tricks her husband has pulled, this one is by far the worst.

Her mind races back to the good times, back when her greatest worry was whether or not to wear a bow in her long black hair. Memories of the countless lessons, the elaborate feasts, and the many, many pranks that an ever cheeky young Loki had pulled on her brothers just to make her laugh flood back to her. Recollections that used to bring joy now heap on terrible pain, and she only sobs all the harder, struggling desperately not to wake her children.

Because she knows that no matter how hard she tries, she can't get those days back.

He is gone.

If she's really honest with herself, she comes to the point that she'd truly lost him after that fateful trip to Jotunheim, though she still doesn't know why to this day. All she knows is that the man she'd finally learned to love had suddenly cut himself off from the world, from his family, from her. He'd grown hard. Wary. And so irrevocably _cold. _

She'd known he was hiding something, but what exactly it was, she couldn't put a finger on. Perhaps if he'd told her, she wouldn't be in this mess...

Nonetheless, she'd stood by him, she _still_ stands by him, even though he's slipped through her fingers. But if he truly died the way his brother told her he had, then maybe, just maybe, he stands in the glory of Valhalla and can finally truly spring from his brother's shadow, stealing a patch of sun for his own. Maybe she _will_ get to see him again, the way he was meant to be, and he'll joke in that almost annoyingly clever way that he always used to. Maybe one day they'll be together in relative peace.

She sees that small ray of hope and clings to it desperately, even as her small body is still racked with sobs. She fights to calm down. She has to calm down. She must be strong for her sons, she tells herself, because she is the closest thing to a rock that her fraught family is going to get. Deep breaths come rolling in; she struggles to sit up, but she just can't. Not yet.

Still fully dressed in heavy velvet skirts, she rolls over and attempts to cry herself to a troubled sleep.

Across the hall, a little boy is completely stirred from sleep. His eyes, the same maniac green as his father's, pop open. His young ears pick up the whispers of a disturbance. Perturbed and concerned, he slowly sits up, turning to his still comatose older brother for help.

"Narvi," he whispers. "Wake up!"

Narvi may as well be a corpse.

A bit flustered, Vali picks up his pillow and chucks it at Narvi as hard as he possibly can, again hissing, "Narvi!"

Groaning, Narvi rolls over.

"This had _better_ be good."

"I think I hear Mother crying," Vali all but mouths.

"She cries a lot these days, brother," Narvi whispers back, sadness creeping into his own voice.

"No, it's different this time," Vali says. "Harder."

"Well, what are you going to do about it?" Narvi snaps.

"I...I don't know..." Vali's voice is filled with fear. "I hate it when she cries..."

Narvi softens. "I know," he sighs. "But you very well could have heard it in your sleep. She is most likely fine. We can go and check on her, if you like."

Vali only nods.

Slowly Narvi slips out of bed. "Come."

With that, Vali timidly slinks from his sheets and tiptoes after his brother.

Narvi pauses in front of his mother's door. Mustering up a little bit of nerve, he cracks the door open and peeks inside. When the dark silhouette of Sigyn's form tensely collapsed on the bed meets his eyes, his own concern grows.

"Mother?" he manages, slipping inside a bit more. "Are you alright?"

She fights to respond but ultimately fails.

Narvi moves to his mother's bedside and lays a small hand on her shoulder.

"Mother?"

Wiping her tears away and making the best effort she can at otherwise pulling herself together, she rolls over to face him.

"What is it, son?" she whispers, forcing a small smile. "Did your brother have another nightmare?"

"No," Narvi manages, shocked at his mother's disheveled state. "He is right here, actually. He's fine. We were worried about you."

Sigyn's brow furrows as she slowly sits up. "Worried about me?"

Vali slips forward. "I thought I heard you. It scared me. I...I don't like it when you cry."

"Come here," Sigyn sighs.

She opens her arms and her sons snuggle into her, one on each side.

"I can see there is no fooling you, my sons. Your senses have always been remarkably acute. You get that from your father, no doubt."

She stumbles over the last few words, but she forces back her tears and continues.

"Your uncle has returned victorious."

Narvi and Vali bolt up simultaneously.

"Where is he?"

"Is Father home, too?"

"Will Grandfather let him go because he helped save Asgard?"

"Can we see them?"

The questions are rapid fire, but when the boys search Sigyn's face for answers, they fall silent. It is all she can do to keep herself together.

"Your uncle was just here, and he delivered some very unexpected news."

Fighting to keep fresh tears from falling down her cheeks, she swallows hard before she continues.

"Your father...was killed."

Narvi's jaw drops. Vali begins to tremble, his little eyes filling to the brim with tears.

"But...that's what we thought last time...and he came back..."

Sigyn's own composure cracks as she shakes her head.

"No, Vali," she chokes, running her fingers through his wealth of raven hair. "Not this time."

Narvi's teeth clench and his eyes squeeze shut, popping angry tears onto his cheeks.

"Why?" he growls.

Sigyn has the foresight to cast a quick sound-proofing spell before he can continue.

_ "Why?! _Why us?! What have we ever done to deserve all of this?! I...I don't understand..."

"Neither do I, Narvi," Sigyn sobs, pulling her oldest to her. "Neither do I."

Vali fully breaks down, and both of them cling to their mother like moss clings to a rock. Though weeping herself, Sigyn gently rocks them, getting the suspicion that they comfort her more than she does them. If they knew the fullness of Loki's atrocities, she wonders, would their reactions be different?

She silently hopes not.

"He died to keep us safe," she manages. "He died for Asgard...and he went down in direct defense of his brother. We were right about him, my sons. And in spite of his past mistakes, I have to believe that such an honorable sacrifice will be rewarded. He never stopped loving you."

"Then why isn't he here?" Narvi practically wails. "I swear, when I get old enough, every single one of those nasty Elves is going to pay! I'll make them wish they'd never been born!"

"They lost the battle," Sigyn whispers. "They lost everything. Your uncle and his companions did a very thorough job. But there is one thing that you can do." She sighs. "Find it in your hearts to forgive your father. If not now...then one day. Please...do you think you can do that? For me?"

Slowly Vali sits up and barely manages a nod. Narvi just continues to weep bitterly.

"I miss him..." Vali whimpers.

"So do I," Sigyn says, wiping the tears from the boy's face as best she can. "So do I."


	2. Chapter 2

**Two**

Dull light seeps through the heavy drapes when Sigyn finally awakes. The air is stiff and cold. Still curled up beside her, Narvi and Vali sleep relatively peacefully. Though both her arms are asleep, she remains still for fear of waking them, especially Vali. So deep a slumber for him is rare.

Her eyelids are extremely heavy for one who's obviously slept so late. Her grief saps her energy from her; the morbid pestilence all but sews her mouth shut. She dreads the eventual moment where a servant will bustle into her chambers, forcing droves of perkiness to hide sheer nervousness. Because of her husband, all the staff is wary of her these days. She lies perfectly still, drinking in the presences of her two sons and watching the steady rise and fall of their chests. Just feeling their heartbeats is enough to console her. Almost.

Soon enough footsteps intrude upon the solace. As the door gently squeaks open, Vali stirs, but he nestles back into sleep at his mother's touch. A maidservant, a slip of a girl with a tight mouth and a flighty eye, appears. She quickly sets a small tray of food on a nearby table and stops short when she catches movement out of the corner of her eye. Her eyes bug a bit, and she sighs tensely, nervously smoothing her skirts.

"Apologies, my lady. I sincerely hope that I did not wake you," she stammers.

"No, no, Ingrid, not at all," Sigyn says, forcing a small smile. "I'd say your timing is actually impeccable."

"Ah. Well, very good then, my lady," Ingrid mutters, turning.

A slightly perplexed look slips in behind her eyes when she sees the little princes curled up on either side and the princess still fully dressed from yesterday. She's learned not to question it.

"I suppose I shall bring the princes' trays in here, then," she says.

"Yes, that would be wonderful," Sigyn replies.

"Very good, my lady."

With a tight curtsey, Ingrid turns and bustles from the room, carrying her apprehensive tightness with her. Much to Sigyn's relief, the door clicks shut. A small grunt bubbles up from beside her, and Narvi stirs to life.

"What was that?" he sleepily inquires.

"It was only Ingrid, son," Sigyn replies. "She will be returning with your breakfast. Are you hungry?"

"Perhaps," Narvi yawns, stretching a bit and shaking the mattress.

"Be mindful," Sigyn softly chides. "I don't want Vali to wake until he is ready."

Nodding, Narvi slides from the bed and tiptoes over to the window. His mannerisms are strictly his father's, and Sigyn is taken aback by just how much of Loki she sees in him. Sighing, she finally takes to restoring the blood flow to her arm, which takes some doing at first. Eventually the feeling in her arm returns, and she combs her fingers through her hair to ward off the edge of a headache that starts to creep in.

A swift knock bounces off the door. Ingrid rushes back in, humming a taut little tune to herself and obviously trying to avoid most conversation. Rubbing his eyes, Narvi turns around at the sound. Though she blatantly tries to hide it, Ingrid's breath catches.

"Good morning," she says hastily. "Did you sleep well, my prince?"

Narvi nods.

An attempt at a smile tightens Ingrid's features. "That is always good. Especially for today. The All-Father is holding a feast in celebration of the victory. It's exciting, the lot of it."

"It is," Sigyn says, but her words lack any semblance of conviction. At the news, her heart drops into her stomach.

"Is there aught else which you need?" Ingrid stutters.

"No, Ingrid," Sigyn replies. "That will be all."

"Very good, my lady." Once again she curtsies and scurries out of the room.

Sigyn sighs. Narvi pensively makes his way over to the trays and selects one of the smaller ones for himself. Vali's eyes blink open.

"Mother?" he groans.

Sigyn softly smiles. "Good morning."

"Where is Narvi?"

"Over here," Narvi replies with a mouthful. "Breakfast is over here, if you want some."

"I am not very hungry," Vali sighs. "Maybe later."

Rubbing his eyes, he slowly sits up. Blood flows back into Sigyn's arm, and she rubs it as she sits up behind him.

"Do you want yours, Mother?" Narvi inquires.

"Yes, thank you, Narvi," Sigyn replies.

Before she knows it, he's set a tray of fresh fruits, nuts, berries, and pastries in her lap. Though grief ties knots in her stomach, she forces herself to eat to keep her sons from worrying. Vali leans into her, resting his head on her shoulder and going so still that he almost looks asleep. Besides the soft clinks of bowls and utensils, relative silence falls over them for a while. Finally Narvi speaks.

"So, there will be a feast today?"

Sigyn sighs. "I suppose so."

"Really?" Vali says.

"Ingrid just said so," Narvi continues. "To celebrate the victories on Midgard and Svartalfheim, I suppose."

Vali sighs. "I don't really like feasts anymore. They are not as fun as they used to be."

"What do you mean?" Narvi says.

"No one ever plays with us anymore," Vali replies sadly.

"Ah," Narvi says. "No one ever pays any _heed_ to us anymore."

"Except Uncle Thor, of course."

"Oh, yes," Narvi concurs. "And Grandmother too, before she died."

"He will most definitely be there tonight," Sigyn says. "And my brothers will be there as well, most likely. We'll have at least some sort of company."

And well-intentioned people attempting to offer some sort of condolences as the rest drink to her late husband's death.

She bites back that cold hard fact, hoping that her sons will be able to find some sort of distraction. Even if it is in only the cakes. She's appalled at herself when she catches her mind wondering how long it will be until some "accidental" spell sends one of them flying on one of the less sensitive members of the court. Not as if it would be the first time.

"If you're finished, run along and get ready," she finally sighs. "I do not know how much time we have left before the feast starts."

"What time is it, even?" Vali inquires.

Narvi slips around a corner to check the old clock that hangs on the wall.

"Just past two o'clock," he replies.

Vali's eyes pop. "We slept that late?"

"We did have a rather long night last night," Sigyn says. "Hurry along, now."

Narvi nods and exits. Vali begins to follow him, but stops short.

"May I take this with me?" he asks, pointing to his untouched tray of food.

"Of course," Sigyn replies. "Just be especially careful not to spill any on your dress clothes."

"Yes, Mother," Vali says, picking up the tray and shuffling out of the room.

As soon as the door shuts, Sigyn flops back down onto her bed and releases a noisy sigh. Of all things, a feast that all but celebrates her pain? Nevertheless, she steels herself for the umpteenth time and slides out of bed, determined to make the best of the situation.

A light knock sounds at the door.

"Come in," Sigyn says, massaging her temples. She hopes and prays that it's one of the boys.

It isn't; it's Esme, a servant around the age of the late queen, the only one out of the entire staff that actually tries her best to understand. A kind smile stretches across her face.

"Good morning, Lady Sigyn. Or, good afternoon rather." She chuckles a bit.

Though her eyes lazily scan the floor, Sigyn grins.

"Hello, Esme," she whispers.

"It is such a lovely day," Esme says. "And you haven't even opened the curtains, yet!"

She bustles over to the window and throws open the drapes. Winding a lone curl around her finger, Sigyn wanders over towards her.

"Look at how clear the sky is, my lady," says Esme. "And everything is so bright and colorful."

"Yes," Sigyn agrees, peering out the window.

Sunlight bathes her in warmth. Peace surrounds the courtyards, but her eyes can't ignore the gouges in the palace walls that whisper of the recent struggles. Sighing, she turns away and sits back down on the edge of the bed.

Esme's voice takes on a heavier tone. "I don't mean to intrude, my lady, but I caught a glimpse of the prince leaving your chambers not long after Ingrid left. Did he have another nightmare?"

"No," Sigyn replies quietly. "He heard me and was worried. I had just found out about Loki when he and Narvi came. Of course, I had to tell them. Once they learned of what happened, they stayed with me. Which I was very glad of, to be honest."

Compassion floods into Esme's eyes.

"I am so sorry you must endure this again, my dear. You must be heartbroken."

Sigyn barely manages a nod.

"No one would know just looking at you how much strength you possess," Esme continues, sitting beside her. "I am always astounded by it. And if you need anyone to talk to, though it may not be exactly proper, I'll always have ears to listen, my lady."

Sigyn smiles. "Thank you," she whispers.

"Now cheer up," Esme says, laying a quiet hand on Sigyn's knee. "We've a feast to prepare for!"

She stands up and slips over to Sigyn's wardrobe.

"Have you thought at all of what you might like to wear, my lady?"

"Not really," Sigyn replies. "Just something simple, I suppose."

"Of course, my lady."

She nearly disappears into the wardrobe multiple times before she produces a few pieces. Quickly she lays them out on Sigyn's bed.

Sigyn has barely looked at them before her decision is made.

"The green," she says.

Esme slightly cocks an eyebrow. "Are you sure? That one will turn some heads, and maybe not in the nicest of ways."

Sigyn straightens. "I'm positive."

Esme smiles. "Very good, my lady. I will prepare a basin for to wash your face, if you like."

"Yes, that would be wonderful," Sigyn replies. "Thank you."

Anything to rid the tearstains.

Esme bustles off. Sigyn glides over to a small table, picks up a hairbrush, and begins to attempt to tame the mass of dark curls. She wanders back over to the window, hoping that the sunlight can coax away the chill of dread that's settled on her bones. Sighing, she forces herself to focus on the good that will come from the unwanted celebration. She's not seen her brothers since the sieges on Vanaheim began. She longs for the elder's quiet strength and the younger's brash sense of humor. Maybe she'll find a distraction. Her sons almost assuredly will. Perhaps she'll get a little time on the balconies, searching the black canopy for the myriad of constellations like she used to do with-

Or maybe she'll just stay inside and fight for all it's worth to stay put together. To remain quietly but blatantly loyal.

She'll avoid the king at all costs.

And most of the warriors for that matter.

And nearly everyone else.

Just as more plans of action begin to form, Esme reappears with a large basin and a towel. When she sets it down, Sigyn gratefully washes. The healing touch of the warm water revitalizes her. Her face dried, almost all the signs of that past night's struggle are washed away. All but the redness in her eyes.

She sits down in front of her dresser while Esme weaves her hair into a comfortable but elegant style. Soon enough soft and flowing skirts are whispering about the tops of her feet. She picks out a delicate gold necklace, and Esme fastens it on.

"There," Esme says rather triumphantly. She guides Sigyn over to the good-sized mirror that hangs one the wall. "Now if you could manage a smile."

Sigyn momentarily forces one.

"You look lovely," Esme whispers.

And she's right.

She does look beautiful.

She actually _feels_ beautiful, too.

And something tells her that if her husband could've seen her now, his heart undoubtedly would have stopped dead. The thought grieves her and slightly amuses her all at the same time.

"Is there anything else I can do for you?" Esme inquires.

Sigyn shakes her head.

"Very well, my lady." She lays a steady hand on Sigyn's shoulder. "Try and have some fun tonight."

Sigyn softly smiles.

"I shall check on the boys and hurry them along if need be," Esme says.

Sigyn barely laughs. "Thank you, Esme. You are dismissed."

Esme curtseys deeply, the turns and exits. When the door shuts, sudden pangs of loneliness sink into Sigyn's heart. She hates what's coming, but hates being alone more so. Wearily she turns towards the mirror for one last check.

When her eyes meet the glass, shock turns her blood to ice.

Instead of her own reflection, Loki's maniac green eyes stare back at her and bore into her soul.

He smirks when her fear sends her stumbling backwards. Just before she hits the floor, she reaches out with her magic and the now empty basin flies into the mirror, sending it into an explosion of shattered glass. Fighting to catch her breath, Sigyn struggles to beat back the image and to regain her sanity.

When he still lived, that had been one of Loki's favorite pranks.

This one, however, is no such thing.

_ That was a hallucination, _she inwardly screams._ It _had_ to be a hallucination. _

But what if it wasn't?

She doesn't have time to comprehend the situation. The door is flying open and Vali is shooting into the room, looking extremely perturbed.

She's barely on her feet again before he sees her.

"Are you alright, Mother?"

Forcing the best smile she can, Sigyn nods. "I merely slipped, darling. I am all right."

She strides forward and turns Vali away from the mess.

"Come," she says almost breathlessly. "We may be late."

She all but shoos Vali forward and scurries from the room. Her skirts bellow over a larger shard, but when they retreat, her place in the reflection is again stolen by her husband. She moves so fast that she doesn't even notice. The door all but slams behind her. Once she's collected Narvi, she uses up every bit of willpower to keep from full on running to the banquet hall.

This will, no doubt, be a _very_ long night.


End file.
